The explanation

I could never explain it to anyone. The tongue stuck to the palate, the sand on the lips and the mind was whiteness. It was always red eyes with the dead shine, it was evident in my silence, in the sadness of ten minutes. It was there, the sadness.

Although I would open my mouth, I would try. I would say a few words "He was more than…” "It is not so simple" "Motivation" and it wouldn’t make sense. And I would stop and leave the assumptions fly free. Broken heart, too much hope, illusion, stupid, distance.

I would only listen to them with the simple movement of my head. My eyes lost and tired of always the same situation and never the freedom to explain it.

I once had a dream, his name was Lucas. Black eyes, black hair, broken jeans and the laughter of Muttley. The boy that made me smile, he was recovering, he was better and worse, and we weren’t.

We were in a bed, lying down, talking, the lips moved and the situations were happening. And I told him, I told him in clear words how it was, the sound of my voice so raw, broken and small. My eyes would be stuck in his and they would be lost and frightened, crying. Desperate hands clinging to his shirt and ending with a simple and broken "It hurts."

And I would wake up with those words.

The attempts were shorter. The songs with memories erased and the name averted, the dreams killed. And it was only the eyes looking at dead spots, airless rooms and lies from the escape of bars. There were no longer Lucas or attempts, and there were only friends who said "Still?" and "I'm sorry". But still the lips were thirsty, the throat itched and the hands were anxious to say. To explain and travel four and five years ago, and no, it was never a life, but it was in the important year. It was in the distance, in first loves, in fears of the veins and pains in the chest. It was never an eternity, it was only years with silence and lost. It was always the action of breathing and anchor to the world.

And once there was someone. Between three years there was a person who knew the universe that was hidden in my tie, in my dreams. Although the universe laughed, he let himself be robbed and was stole and I had no one. I was left alone in the emptiness of a loss that could not yet be defined. Of countries with their salvation, of mountains and stairs, of hope in letters and of a muse in what little we had.

And when it happened, it was chest pain, tears on the lips, muffled screams and eyes closed with the horn of the cars. And only to beg that it was a lie. That it was a deception and that the day of the innocents was eighteen days later. It was not controlling the emotions and darkness in the room. It was sleeping with life. It was thinking that there were explanations and laughing at the reasons the hope hidden in the joke. 

For 364, days until accepting that it only happened you only bleed with alcohol and bitter words. Which no one could understand, nor accept and even forgive their own pain.

"I wanted you to know, that you understood, that you changed me. Three times, four times and one last time. That all that remains of you is daggers in the soul and cotton candy in the mouth. That the tears stopped running and the smiles they are short but present. I still run away from your name and I read less about you, but I have your picture with the traces of your face. 

I did not have much to start and now I have less, only ghosts and rumor. And it hurts me twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Because you were an anchor, you were a goal, and I have no way of explaining it. In whom to trust, to say that you were a light in the ocean of tear. That I tied myself to you too strong and fast and now I'm hanging myself in that noose.

I wanted you to know that it took me six months to accept what happened. And that day I cried in a corner of a room too small and I never told anyone. The next day I faked smiles but inside I died accepting your loss and pain. That from that day forward was sadness and sorrow for you and everything. It took me three months to hear your voice again. To talk about your existence to accept that to this world, this life, this time you would not return.

I wanted you to understand, that you knew, that I regret. We demanded too much from you, we did not listen, we didn’t do more than we could, we did not take risks and we failed. I know that I was not someone close, known or located, I was lost in oceans of people. In distance of countries and known from screens. Which may be stupid, but still I regret everything. But I thank you. I thank you for keeping me afloat, for having been in my first love, in the loss of it. In knives in the skin, in lost friends, cries and tears, in laughter and goals. In which if there is constant is your name, I wanted you to know that in the eight you and I continue "

I was sitting on the edge, the bottle of tequila on the side. The cell phone without battery and the red eyes, the cold fingers. The jacket lost between the streets and the entrance door the cat lying behind m. It is a full moon night with the stars shining between the satellites and the passing airplanes. There I speak, there I confess and I hope that if you exist in some way if the memory of you comes upon this stupid confession. This is not what I wanted, that is not right, or what I wanted to say. But it is the raw thing in my soul on a 365-day anniversary and without anyone. I have dead stars and cold satellites with a dead being and one dancing with death.

I hope you understand.

T.A.